said with an amused smile as he leaned forward to kiss me on each cheek.
“Where’s Vincent?” I asked, taking the arm he offered as we headed toward his house.
“He’s off doing something for Jean-Baptiste,” Jules said, glancing down at the sidewalk as if he was afraid I would read his mind.
Which sent warning bells off in my head.
I thought back to the awkward stare-down between Vincent and JB at the house meeting, and then to Vincent’s elusiveness last night when I asked what it had been about. There was definitely something going on that he didn’t want me to know.
“And he didn’t think I could find my own way to your house?” I asked, feigning nonchalance.
“Yeah, um … Vincent’s been a bit jumpy lately. About your human vulnerability. With the numa poised to attack at any moment, it’s kind of got him spooked.”
“Do you think he’s overreacting? About my vulnerability, that is,” I asked, looking sideways at him. Okay, I was fishing. But I was hoping I could get more information out of flirty Jules.
“Kate, you are totally kick-ass. But you are still made of flesh and blood. Non-reanimating flesh, that is. So I have to say that I get where Vincent’s coming from.”
I nodded, wishing with all my might that I was as indestructible as them. If I were Charlotte. Or Violette, for God’s sake: fourteen years old, and everyone treated her like she was made of steel. Respect , I reflected. It’s hard to demand respect when something as tiny as a bullet could remove you from existence. Permanently .
“So am I going to get an escort to and from school?” I asked, wondering how far Vincent would go with his paranoia.
“ Non ,” Jules laughed. “It’s just that Violette got a tip-off yesterday that the numa are on the move. She’s worried that they might be monitoring our house. It’s only because you’re coming to our place that Vincent thought you should have an escort. Don’t worry: After this morning, you can fend for yourself.” And he mock-punched me in the arm. I hit him back … hard. “Damn, girl, you pack a mean punch,” he teased me, which set off a mock scuffle that lasted the rest of the way to La Maison.
Gaspard was waiting for me in the gym, doing some kind of tai-chi-looking stretching exercises. He finished his movement, gave me a slight bow, and then chatted with Jules while I went to put my padded fight outfit on. It was made of a type of slate gray Kevlar that protected me from the more extreme blades in the revenants’ armory. I felt a bit guilty about the expensive, classic-white fencing costume Papy had bought me, which hung untouched in the armory closet. But this higher-tech suit, although it made me look scarily like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld , kept me from getting the nicks and cuts that didn’t bother the revenants.
Jules whistled appreciatively as I walked over to them and took the sword Gaspard held out toward me. “Kate, you look positively … lethal,” he murmured.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I smiled, knowing that the outfit emphasized my good points. Too bad I never wore it outside of the armory. I’ll have to be a vampire slayer for Halloween , I thought.
“As much as I’d love to stay and watch you in action,” Jules said, grinning, “I’ve got to run. Be back in an hour to pick you up.” And he jogged up the stairs, closing the door behind him.
I should have jogged right out the door after him. Because the next half hour was unquestionably my worst training ever. Not only was I distracted by thoughts of what Vincent could be up to, but I was used to training with both him and Gaspard. Without Vincent there, ready to jump in every few minutes to let me catch my breath, I finally had to signal Gaspard to stop. “Time-out,” I called breathlessly, as he lowered his sword.
I staggered to the edge of the room and slid down the wall, putting my head between my knees as I tried to catch my breath. When I looked up, Gaspard was
“Where’s Vincent?” I asked, taking the arm he offered as we headed toward his house.
“He’s off doing something for Jean-Baptiste,” Jules said, glancing down at the sidewalk as if he was afraid I would read his mind.
Which sent warning bells off in my head.
I thought back to the awkward stare-down between Vincent and JB at the house meeting, and then to Vincent’s elusiveness last night when I asked what it had been about. There was definitely something going on that he didn’t want me to know.
“And he didn’t think I could find my own way to your house?” I asked, feigning nonchalance.
“Yeah, um … Vincent’s been a bit jumpy lately. About your human vulnerability. With the numa poised to attack at any moment, it’s kind of got him spooked.”
“Do you think he’s overreacting? About my vulnerability, that is,” I asked, looking sideways at him. Okay, I was fishing. But I was hoping I could get more information out of flirty Jules.
“Kate, you are totally kick-ass. But you are still made of flesh and blood. Non-reanimating flesh, that is. So I have to say that I get where Vincent’s coming from.”
I nodded, wishing with all my might that I was as indestructible as them. If I were Charlotte. Or Violette, for God’s sake: fourteen years old, and everyone treated her like she was made of steel. Respect , I reflected. It’s hard to demand respect when something as tiny as a bullet could remove you from existence. Permanently .
“So am I going to get an escort to and from school?” I asked, wondering how far Vincent would go with his paranoia.
“ Non ,” Jules laughed. “It’s just that Violette got a tip-off yesterday that the numa are on the move. She’s worried that they might be monitoring our house. It’s only because you’re coming to our place that Vincent thought you should have an escort. Don’t worry: After this morning, you can fend for yourself.” And he mock-punched me in the arm. I hit him back … hard. “Damn, girl, you pack a mean punch,” he teased me, which set off a mock scuffle that lasted the rest of the way to La Maison.
Gaspard was waiting for me in the gym, doing some kind of tai-chi-looking stretching exercises. He finished his movement, gave me a slight bow, and then chatted with Jules while I went to put my padded fight outfit on. It was made of a type of slate gray Kevlar that protected me from the more extreme blades in the revenants’ armory. I felt a bit guilty about the expensive, classic-white fencing costume Papy had bought me, which hung untouched in the armory closet. But this higher-tech suit, although it made me look scarily like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld , kept me from getting the nicks and cuts that didn’t bother the revenants.
Jules whistled appreciatively as I walked over to them and took the sword Gaspard held out toward me. “Kate, you look positively … lethal,” he murmured.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I smiled, knowing that the outfit emphasized my good points. Too bad I never wore it outside of the armory. I’ll have to be a vampire slayer for Halloween , I thought.
“As much as I’d love to stay and watch you in action,” Jules said, grinning, “I’ve got to run. Be back in an hour to pick you up.” And he jogged up the stairs, closing the door behind him.
I should have jogged right out the door after him. Because the next half hour was unquestionably my worst training ever. Not only was I distracted by thoughts of what Vincent could be up to, but I was used to training with both him and Gaspard. Without Vincent there, ready to jump in every few minutes to let me catch my breath, I finally had to signal Gaspard to stop. “Time-out,” I called breathlessly, as he lowered his sword.
I staggered to the edge of the room and slid down the wall, putting my head between my knees as I tried to catch my breath. When I looked up, Gaspard was
Similar Books
